


What the Water Gave Me

by smushly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:28:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smushly/pseuds/smushly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The air is ripped from his lungs as he is pulled suddenly from sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Water Gave Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published work in a very long time...it's just a quick, unbetaed thing written post-finale. I own nothing, Merlin belongs to the BBC and Shine :)

The air is ripped from his lungs as he is pulled suddenly from sleep. He opens his eyes and sees nothing but eerie green ahead. Gravity pulls at him, as if he is falling in slow motion. His chest burns from lack of air, but when he tries to take a breath, it chokes him. Water. He’s drowning. He’s drowning…  
  
He’s panicking.  
  
His limbs are tired, and his chain mail is weighing him down, but the adrenaline coursing through his body gives him the strength to act. He pumps his arms and legs as hard as he can, darting for the surface of the water. He sees a small spot of light, and a glimmer of hope forms in his mind. The spot grows larger and larger, until suddenly he bursts out, inhaling sharp, cold air into his sore lungs. He‘s panting, trying to stay afloat above the water, and he looks around, taking in the environment around him.  
  
He’s in the middle of a small lake, surrounded by overgrown greenery on all sides. There looks to be a small path just to his left, so he swims slowly in that direction. He pulls himself onto the bank, exhausted, and the air makes him shiver. He lays himself out on the ground, and waits for his body to regain it’s strength.  
  
\--  
  
A while later he finds himself walking through the woods along the path. He’s very confused. The last thing he remembers is being by the campfire with Merlin, heading toward the Lake of Avalon. Was this that lake? How did he get there? And where the hell was Merlin?   
  
He walks on, hoping to find some sort of village soon. It’s nearing dusk and he doesn’t wish to camp in the woods with only one set of very wet clothing.   
  
He stops suddenly, listening closely. He’s heard an odd noise a bit like a war horn but, not like one he‘s ever heard… some sort of beast maybe? He walks cautiously forward, listening still, but doesn’t hear anything more. Up ahead he sees a larger path, so he makes a run for it, thinking this must be the way to the town he’s in such desperate need for. He shoots out of the trees and barrels right into something. Or someone, it would seem, if the pained grunt is anything to go by.   
  
“I apologize, I didn’t see you,” he says, standing up quickly and glances at the old man he’s knocked down.  
  
“You have no business being so reckless, you’ll get somebody hurt!” The voice is gruff and bitter. The old man is on his hands and knees, trying to pick up the contents of a torn rucksack.  
  
“Again, I apologize. I’ll be sure to be more careful in future. Here, let me help you.” He bends down to offer his assistance and finally gets a look at the old man’s face.   
  
He’s seen this face before.  
  
“You! You’re the sorcerer from the battle! Wait but Merlin said…Merlin. Merlin! You’re Merlin!” he says excitedly. “Oh, but what are you doing in that ridiculous garb, Merlin, and where the hell have you been! I‘ve been walking these woods for hours!”   
  
But Merlin is just staring at him with a look of pure disbelief, bordering on horror.  
  
“Merlin, what‘s wrong?”  
  
Before his eyes, Merlin suddenly begins to de-age. His long white hair and beard disappear, his wrinkly old skin smooths, and then it is HIS Merlin on his knees before him, still staring with a troubled expression.   
  
“Merlin?”  
  
Merlin sits back and pulls his knees to his chest and looks down at the ground, putting a hand up to his mouth. He squeezes his eyes tight shut and shakes his head, before looking back up at him through his thick, dark lashes, tears shining unshed in his eyes.   
  
“Arthur.”


End file.
